Lavender Town Stirring
by Talos the Saiyan
Summary: A response of sorts to some of the more creepy stories concerning this town.  A great horror has come across the land, in Lavender something stirrs. If the day is to be saved, a secret must be braved.  The secret of Lavender Town...


The Stirring of Lavender

I can see you there. Alone in the dark, the fear clear on your faces. Your minds scream in terror at my intrusion and you know that this is the end. The plague of undeath that has swept this land yu fled from. You came here, ether from foolhardiness or from stupidity.

It doesn't really matter. Your Pokemon are exhausted and you yourselves are hurt. You know that this is the end and that I could kill you with but a thought.

Sit down. Please sit down.

Stop the screaming. It was a simple psychic impulse. A very simple trick. I did not control your minds or your bodies. Now hush, worse monsters than me search for you.

Let me tell you a tale to pass the time and by the end of it...

Well, perhaps you will not be quite so scared.

Death is but the beginning.

A human once wrote that. Some human who made his living shaping words for other humans to listen to and appreciate. I never could get the hang of that, even when I was still...whole.

Words just never seemed important to me. What are mere words when you are privy to to the unnermost world of thought? What are words? Simple sounds, but thoughts...thoughts are like lightning. Crackling dancing across your brain in a multi-hued splendour. Like swarms of fishes darting to and fro. All this was my world. I was a being of thought not of matter. Though I had a body, I paid scarce heed to it save to keep it fed and well. My world – my soul – was in the air, in the thoughts, in the mind that hummed with psychic power.

Ironic, considering how things ended up.

But... I am getting ahead of myself. Let me start at the beginning.

I was hatched a very long time ago. In the region known as Kento, I was raised. I grew up alone, more or less. Like all of my kind, I had very little offensive techniques. I survived, I grew. But I knew deep down, I was destined for more.

In due time, I evolved. Becoming Kadabra. My powers developed at an astounding rate and I went from a weak Pokemon to a master of combat. Though my body was frail, my mind burned with a mighty power that few could oppose.

I had a trainer... a friend... I think...

I must have... How else could I end up here?

But that is in the future. I apologise. When you have been like me for this long, your mind begins to wander... My dicipline is as strong as ever it was, but my mind is...foggy... I am not like the others. No mindless beast.

Do not shy away; I can see the fear clear in your eyes. Read it in the taste of your minds. I will not harm you. I swear it.

Anyway, where was I? Ah yes, Kadabra. I was Kadabera for a very long time; my kind does not grow quickly nor easily. But I was happy as I was. With my trainer – yes, I remember him now, all smiles and calm words, the taste of his mind always so reassuring - we explored. The two of us were friends. Real friends. I did not live in a Pokeball as did so many of my kind, no I was left free. I followed of my own volition and I fought for him of my own choice. For his part, my trainer was honoured to have me, we got along well... So well.

I miss him so...

One day, we were out hunting for Pokemon as we often did. With my powers, the capturing was an easy business. He was talking of going around and earning badges, this trainer of mine, and I knew that we would be able to do so. We could do anything we put our minds to, in those days. We ran into something that we did not expect, however, that day when we were searching the wilds. The pokemon known as Gengar. A hunter, a spirit-thief. A monster.

It set its sights on my friend.

I fought. But as a Psychic Pokemon I was weak against ghosts. My strongest attacks bounced off, is lightest ones seemed to glide through my best defences. In no time, I was winded, bleeding, one one knee and gasping for air.

I remember his terrified face. I remember the pain in my body. I remember for the first time, knowing that my life was about to end.

But it did not.

I evolved. That moment, that second. My urge to will so strong that I was able to finally make the final leap to Alakazam.

I attacked. The fight was tough; I was still at a type disadvantage. But equally, I was fighting for my friends and so I knew that I could not lose. I would **not **lose.

I drove off the ghost and saved my friend. But the price was high. My powers were exhausted and I would never recover fully from the strain that had forced my body to evolve. I did not care. I had saved my trainer. My life was a worthwhile price to pay, if such was asked.

But slowly. My weakness began to grow. My trainer feared for my health and began to take me with him less and less...

I could hardly stand it. The pain I was feeling at the forced seperation as sharp as a knife in the gut. But I knew he meant well. I knew that he would never leave me fully.

And one night, I had a vision.

It is both a curse and a blessing of my kind that we can see the future. Not all of it, and not clearly. But we can catch glimpses of it now and then. When something we care for is threatened, we can see it.

I saw the death of that human who had befriended me and who I had given so much to save.

I would not stand for it.

Despite my growing weakness, I called all my power to hand and went to him in the flash of an eye. Teleporting to his side, I saw with mounting horror what he was facing.

A monster. A beast from the deepest pit of the ocean.

Gyarados.

A raging water serpent with the power of a dragon. I knew at once that he could not win; his Pokemon were not strong enough. None bar me and even then, it would have to be me in my prime. Not as I was now.

Nevertheless, I held my ground. I summoned all my strength every spark of power that remained in my soul.

My trainer wanted me to run. What a fool. If I'd run, the beast would have went on a rampage. Nothing distracts a Gyarados from its prey and it had chosen my trainer as that prey.

No. I would not stand for it. With every spark of life in my soul, with every scrap of power that I had.

I would not stand for this.

I summoned my mightiest attacks. I called down thunder, I ripped its mind to shreds. But Gyarados are legend for a reason and still it endured. Striking back with its long fangs that shreded my flesh so easily.

In the end, the in I faced the ultimate inevitable reality of the situation.

What is that, you ask? I can see you there, huddling behind your Pokemon. I can see on your face that you know how this will end. But I shall say so anyway.

I died.

I died slowly. In great pain. From a thousand wounds as I fought to save the life of the only human I really cared for.

I did it.

In the end, I succeeded even at the cost of my life. The gyarados was repulsed. I didn't even have time to say a word before oblivion swept through me.

I was dead.

But it was not the end.

Later, I was to learn that my trainer had made the trip himself. Carrying my body cradled in his arms, his tears mingled with my blood. He had taken me to Lavender Town and had me laid to rest in the tower.

That was where I awoke, you see.

I had died. But I was not gone. My..my...call it a soul. For lack of a better term. My soul was still bound to this place even as the body it had once inhabited rotted away.

I was not the only one.

Even humans can feel it, the tower is not quite right. The spirits of departed Pokemon linger on here. That is good. It is the way of things.

I can see the confusion in your minds. Am I supposed to think otherwise? Am I supposed to rage at our confinement? Am I supposed to hate you? To torment you? I could do all these things yes. Do them trivially even.

But why?

I am old. So very old. I have seen pokemon come and go, whole generations. I was one of the first here you see. One of the first to arrive and I always knew that I would be one of the last to leave.

For my mission in death is the same as my mission in life. I am here for a purpose and a reason.

Come now humans. Walk towards me, find shelter in my shadow. You are under the protection of Alakazam and I swear on my undead life, that no one and no thing shall harm you while I am here.

Because, ultimately, that is what we are here for. Pokemon and humans help each other. It has ever been this way. Did you think that we lingered on here for no reason? No...

We...

All of us...

We waited for when we would be needed again.

Come, friends... rise...

We have work to do.

Today is the day. Push aside your graves, return once more the land of the living.

Humans... I see your fear and I understand it. You must think us horrible monsters. Decayed beings half rotten.

I will not say to trust me...

But remember that each of you has some Pokemon buried in this tower. Some friend thought long since lost.

Ask yourself, would they ever abandon you? Would they leave you now?

I can see in your eyes and in your soul...

You understand...

Very well then.

Though my trainer is long since gone and everyone I knew has joined him. I linger here for one final day.

I swear to you I swear on the spirits of all Pokemon. You...Kento...the whole world. It will be saved.

We will ensure it.

Pokemon of a time long passed... Pokemon long since buried... Remember the light of the sun. Rise.. .stand with me.

Your trainers are calling. Out there in the world, they are in danger. Can you feel it? Can you sense it?

I can.

And I will not allow it.

So once more I say this. Once more I utter these words that forever changed my life and my death.

I will not stand for this.

Pokemon

Your trainers need you now more than ever.

Will you let a simple thing like death stand in the way of your going to their aid?

...

I thought not.

Something of a response to the various creepypastas that one find can floating around the 'net. Usually, when an undead plague hits everyone dies...

But why?

Pokemon aren't vengeful and you would have at least as many dead Pokemon rising to help defend the humans as to harm them.

This is dedicated to them. The ones the stories never mention. Just because they're dead doesn't mean they're going to forget all the good times they shared with their trainers, after all.


End file.
